


spring break bro

by toastyboi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Spring Break, sophomores in college, theyre both like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 16:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastyboi/pseuds/toastyboi
Summary: and you love him





	spring break bro

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my friend dave](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+friend+dave).



“You know,” he mumbles, as you pick stray blades of grass out of his hair, “spring break isn’t gonna last forever.” He tilts his head back against your hands and gives you that look, the one that he always has when he’s feeling contemplative and all around worried about the future. You lean down and land little pecks on his mouth until he’s smiling again, which really isn’t all that difficult. He’s a major pile of sticky-sweet sap and you’re just the unfortunate (or rather fortunate in your case) bitter wasp that’s been all caught up in it. You kiss him again for good measure, just because you really like the taste of the tea he had been drinking. 

“I don’t really want to hear you harshing on our spring mellow when break literally started less than three days ago. We have a whole week and a half left before you need to head back off your solid college life, so let’s savor that time while we can. I didn’t bring you out to Makeout Ridge for nothing.” You feel him shift, now sitting up in your lap instead of laying across it. His head hits your shoulder and you take this opportunity to kiss along his jaw. His hair tickles your nose, fingers brushing circles along your knuckles. You don’t really want to admit it right now, but you’re already overthinking the future. Months without seeing John is kind of pure agony, but at least you have this time together. You kiss the growing stubble on his chin, and he laughs, sweet and low. 

“You didn’t tell me this was Makeout Ridge. I just thought you took me to a nice place so we could overlook the city, you scoundrel. What are you trying to do to me, Dave? Dirty me up like some sort of greasy-handed computer nerd?” He chides, playfully, and the hand that isn’t on yours softly goes around your shoulders to card through your hair. You kiss his cheek and bury your smile against it, but he knows better than that. He turns his head to the side and you kiss through your dumb grin. 

He pulls away before you can even get a party going, which leaves you chasing after his lips like some shitty fly after a flickering light bulb. He catches your face in his hands (they smell like grass and dirt and the shampoo you had been using), then brings you closer so he can leave a kiss just gently under your eye. You sigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and honestly you could melt right there into the ground with him and you’d be happy. You’re sans shades because it makes it easier to see how his hair curls and falls lightly into his face. He’s still wearing his glasses (‘I want to be able to see you!’), but you wish he’d take them off for awhile. They’re obstructing your view of his baby blues. Despite the fact that he’s still holding your face, you manage to twist your head and land a few wet kisses on his palm. He giggles, the ticklish fuck, and leans your heads together so gently you might die. 

You sigh against his skin, trying to pull him impossibly closer so you didn’t need to think about how cold it was out there. “You, John Egbert,” you mumble, trying to make your tone as suave as possible without sounding like a dumbass, “are some sort of ethereal being. A marble statue, maybe, because I don’t know how anybody else gets to be these perfect without some sort of magic. You didn’t get botox while you were in your fancy out-of-state school, did you?” 

You don’t really get to continue, because he’s tutting jokingly and meeting the underside of your jaw with his lips. You feel your shoulders relax as he trails down, and honestly, if someone asked you to describe anything better than being close to John Egbert you would quite literally have aneurysm. He mumbles something sappy like an ‘I love you’, but you don’t really get a chance to do anything else before a car horn is honking at the both of you and blinding you with their shitty front lights. You groan with how quickly pulls back, shuffling his way out of your lap. You guess you should have expected this, a lot of people like to come up to the “romantic view” of the city and “sit and talk” together. 

John nudges your shoulder and ushers you along into your pickup, which you begrudgingly unlock because you really just wanted to stick it out there for five more minutes. He ruffles your hair when you hop into the driver’s side and makes the promise of buying you two food if you manage to find a drive-thru on your way down. You practically speed out of that little lot, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding gently onto John’s. It isn’t picture perfect, but you think that if you wait a little while, it will be. You had plenty more spring breaks after that, anyway.


End file.
